


Going Home

by athena_crikey



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Camping, Episode tie-in, Gen, friendship fic, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena_crikey/pseuds/athena_crikey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the border of Francshire, Yuuri deals with the realities of bringing Conrad home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home

It takes a few moments for the excitement caused by the order to exile Conrad to die down, during which Yuuri catches his breath. The night air is cold, but he hadn’t noticed until now, not choked tight by the fear that Conrad would leave again. The breeze is welcome against his flushed skin, and he opens his collar to let it in against his throat. It’s only then that he notices Murata looking around, even as the huddle of Francshire guards splits to pass the Mazoku on the outsides of the path and pauses to wait.

“You didn’t leave too well-equipped did you, Sir Weller?” Murata’s eyes flash over Conrad’s stiff form, and Yuuri notices for the first time that he has no supplies with him, not even a blanket or water skin. Only his sword and clothes to his name. “Maa, I guess they don’t stock the cells for escape.”

Yozak steps forward, holding Conrad’s sword. “I’ll go with the Captain; we can use our horses. His Majesty and His Highness can go back with Lords von Voltaire and von Bielefelt.”

“I’m going too!” Yuuri speaks loud enough for the group behind him to hear, but he doesn’t look away from Conrad, eyes unwavering. “I’m going too.”

“Looks like he’s not going to let you out of his sight again, Captain,” whispers Yozak theatrically, leaning in towards them. 

Conrad smiles – there is still more wariness there than Yuuri is used to, but it is at least genuine. “Alright.”

“Then –” begins Wolfram haughtily, and is cut off abruptly by Gwendal. 

“No. We are the middle of a diplomatic visit to Francshire. We cannot all march out in the middle of the night. Wolfram and Geigan Huber will return with me; we will conclude the formal negotiations and depart as planned in the afternoon. Wait for us on the other side of the border; we will rendezvous there.”

Conrad glances over Yuuri’s shoulder and nods. “Understood.” 

“Then we will take our leave. Come, Wolfram.” 

Yuuri does turn now and gives a little smile to Wolfram, who glowers back sulkily but doesn’t object. Gwendal and Hube leave silently; Murata walks while looking back and waving cheerfully.

“Now. I guess the Captain and His Majesty can share a horse, and I’ll have the other.” Yozak suits actions to words and hands the reins of the horse that had been Yuuri’s to Conrad before mounting up smoothly on the other. Conrad takes a deep breath and pulls himself into the saddle in slow, broken movements that make Yuuri’s chest hurt. He waits until Conrad is settled before climbing up behind. He rests his hand on Conrad’s shoulder, his touch light as if it were fine glass under his fingers. Even so he can feel the tension in Conrad, all his muscles straining hard as though to hold him together.

“Hube shouldn’t have fought you. You’re still hurt.”

“I shouldn’t have fought him,” replies Conrad, reasonably. “I couldn’t have stopped a man of his skill without killing him, and I could not have killed a man pursuing me lawfully, and in your name.”

“Conrad…” Yuuri tightens his grip on Conrad’s jacket. Conrad never talks about this kind of thing, never draws attention to the fact that he is, ultimately, an extremely well-trained killer. 

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

“Yuuri,” corrects Yuuri, automatically. “And sorry for what?”

“I never wanted you to see how dirty my hands are. Perhaps that was just selfishness.” Conrad’s voice is quiet and contrite. His back, always straight when riding, is bent now. Even in the poor light, Yuuri catches a flash of movement to his right and glances over – Yozak is watching them with a worried expression. A moment later he’s looking back to their escort.

“Oi, Leila. How far is it to the border?” 

“Only a few minutes. These trees open out onto a plain; that’s the edge of Francshire. There’s a good campsite only a little farther to the east, with some shelter and plenty of firewood.”

“Good.”

Yuuri wraps his arms around Conrad, gently, careful of his wounded side. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispers. Conrad doesn’t answer.

  
***

The Francshire escort leaves them at the border, waving goodbye from under the dark boughs. Yozak carries a single torch and leads the way east over the open prairie where the wind sounds like it’s sighing as it combs through the grass.

The campsite Leila spoke of is a few tall, smooth stones rising like a giant’s teeth from the earth. On one side they are flat and mossy, perhaps hewed by travellers over the centuries. There are several old fire pits in their lee and even an ancient log to sit on. Behind them the woods of Francshire aren’t far off, full of dry timber. 

Yozak dismounts first, laying down the torch in the remains of one of the fire pits and then helping Conrad off. The former captain moves like an old man, crooked and pained, and Yuuri hurries to tie up the horses, afraid to leave him alone. Conrad places himself with his back resting against one of the tall stones, eyes closed and face hard even in the soft firelight. Yozak’s already heading for the woods.

“I’m going to get some more firewood. Will you be okay, Your Majesty?”

Yuuri nods distractedly, “Yeah, sure.” He hardly hears Yozak’s footsteps disappear; he’s already leaning over Conrad, hand raised.

Conrad’s eyes flash open, and for a split-second Yuuri sees fear there. 

“Don’t.” He catches hold of Yuuri’s hand and holds it, his grip surprisingly strong and cold. 

“It’s just me, Conrad!” Yuuri shifts to put his face in the light, trying to work out if Conrad could have passed out, or maybe just fallen asleep.

“I know.” He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, pushing Yuuri’s hand away. “You’re still weak. You used too much energy healing me yesterday. I’m fine.” His eyes drop from Yuuri’s face to the pendant around his neck, before flitting off towards the fire. 

“What? Oh – I feel fine. Strong as a horse!” He pumps his fists energetically. “See? Besides, I’ve been up and doing things all day, no problem. I even signed a treaty between Shin Makoku and Francshire!”

Some of the tension goes out of Conrad’s face, the lines around his eyes softening. “I see. That’s good. You should be proud, Your Majesty. You’ve accomplished what none of your predecessors could.”

“Gunther said that, too. His way sounded more sycophantic, though,” Yuuri confides. He leans forwards, puts a hand on Conrad’s shoulder. “Please? I’ll just use a little. You opened your injuries fighting Hube, didn’t you?” In fact, he can already feel the majutsu flowing as he speaks, just like Gisela taught him. It pools into Conrad’s wounds, closing the torn muscle and sinew, and Conrad’s breaths become easier and deeper.

“That’s enough, Yuuri.” He rests a hand over Yuuri’s, and maybe it’s just his imagination but it seems warmer. “I’m fine, really. I’ve had worse.” He says it so honestly that Yuuri knows he’s not exaggerating, knows he’s felt pain much worse than this before, and Yuuri is forced to cut off his thoughts before they go too far down a dark road. He forces a smile, and a cheerful voice.

“You should lie down at least. We had blankets with our horses, just in case.” He gets up and pulls the blanket roll off his mount, patting her warm neck. She smells of sweat and leather and horse, and he knows the blanket will too. “Yozak’ll take care of you in just a minute,” he tells her; she flicks an ear at him.

He returns with the blanket and drapes it over Conrad, smiling just a little as he tucks it in over the familiar brown jacket.

Conrad looks up, puzzled. “What is it?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s just… you’ve taken care of me so many times. Now I finally get to take care of you.” He sits back down next to Conrad and watches the torch as it begins to flicker out, half-smothered in old ashes. 

“I used to think so, too. But being in Big Shimaron made me realise it was you – your presence, your existence – that was protecting me. It gave me a purpose in life, when it seemed like there wasn’t anything to value.”

There’s a cracking behind them, and even as Conrad stiffens a familiar voice calls out, “Heeeey, I’m back! We’ll have a great fire tonight.” Yozak rounds the stones with his arms full of wood and sets about building up the fire. Yuuri watches as he lays a base of kindling, then snaps some larger branches and bark to pile on top. As he lights the fire, torch setting the smaller pieces ablaze, Conrad slowly begins to lean further and further to the left, towards Yuuri. Finally, as Yozak rises and brushes his hands against each other, Conrad topples all together. Yuuri catches him, wide-eyed but silent, and shuffles down to lay him out with his head resting in Yuuri’s lap. He looks up to find Yozak watching them with a faintly amused expression, before moving on to unsaddle the horses.

It’s funny, he’s always hated waking up to find Wolfram hovering over him, pillowing his head. But looking down at Conrad now, he can understand it a bit more. The idea of having to protect Conrad never occurred to him before the battle with Big Shimaron, but now the idea of seeing him in pain again makes Yuuri feel sick. Even him sleeping out here, on the ground – there should be a bed, with pillows and clean sheets and maybe even a heated blanket or something. Instead he’s out here like some kind of criminal, hurt and alone, and this _isn’t even the worse he’s had._

“You look like you’re thinking some pretty deep thoughts there, Your Majesty.”

Yuuri startles, looking up from Conrad’s face and across the fire to where Yozak is coming back. The flames blind him temporarily and he winces; Yozak laughs.

“Shh – he’s sleeping!” Yuuri hisses, wincing as he tries to see through his stinging eyes.

“Don’t worry about him – if he fell asleep like that, he’s really out. It’ll take more than talking to wake him.”

Yuuri lets his hand fall gently to rest in Conrad’s hair; it’s soft and silken. Conrad doesn’t wake, his breathing deep and even. Gradually Yuuri finds himself stroking the brown locks, as though Conrad were a child, or a lover. He should feel embarrassed, he knows, but all he feels is safe and content – right here, right now, everything is fine. 

“He won’t leave again.” Yuuri looks up, hand pausing with his fingers curled tight in Conrad’s hair. “…Will he?”

“Conrad’s always had a mind of his own. Once he makes it up, hell or high water won’t change it. But for you he’d do anything, young master. If you make your wishes known –”

“I asked him to come back,” breaks in Yuuri, voice quiet as the breeze in the forest’s leaves. “I begged him.”

Yozak shifts, looking up at the clear night sky. It’s a crisp night without cloud cover, the stars sparkling in the black sheet of sky. “You have to understand, Your Majesty. Shin-Ou… for the people of Shin-Makoku, he’s like your god, your father and your country all rolled into one. His word isn’t an order, and it’s not a law either. You can disobey an order, you can break a law. But when Shin-Ou calls you, you go.”

“Even if you don’t want to?”

“Even if it means giving up what matters most to you.” 

Exactly the bargain he’d offered Conrad. Yuuri’s shoulders curve inwards, back tracing a scimitar silhouette against the campfire. “It’s unforgivable,” he whispers, his face drawn in pain. “To ask that of Conrad…” He shakes his head, lips pursed shut. In the fire pit, a piece of wood splinters with a crack. 

“Despite everything that happened, you have to remember that the Captain acted out of loyalty to you. In the end, he chose you over Shin-Ou’s orders – that’s unheard of.”

Yuuri is silent. Here everything is calm and peaceful. The sky a thick blanket full of stars shining down on them, the breeze cool but sweet on their cheeks. Around them the summer insects are buzzing, crickets chirping in the long grass. Delicate gold-green specks of light skim over a stream, proving that there are fireflies in this world too; they’re just as beautiful as on Earth.

But the quiet tranquility does nothing to ease his mind, brings him no joy. He’s nearly as miserable as he’s ever been. 

“When I first met you,” he tells Yozak, hand stilling over Conrad’s hair, we were attacked by those pirates. Conrad told me then that he would follow me even into death. That kind of loyalty, that kind of… love, I don’t want it. I never want him to be hurt, to suffer because of me.” The words pour from his mouth like dark water breaking through a dam, swift and fierce.

Yozak smiles, and Yuuri bristles defensively.

“Your Majesty, Conrad’s a soldier. He’s lived his whole life throwing himself into the breach on the orders of one or another superior. To be able to choose to protect you – it gives him freedom. And happiness. I might not agree with everything he did, but I understand why he did it.”

“I don’t –”

“So will you punish him for it?”

Yuuri stops, mouth open. Yozak continues, suddenly serious.

“He disobeyed both your orders and your wishes, you know. That’s treason. You don’t just have reason, you have an obligation. To uphold our laws, to punish treachery.”

“I won’t,” breaks in Yuuri, heatedly. “Never.”

Yozak frowns. “Because Conrad is your friend? You can’t bend laws for friendship’s sake, young master.”

“Because he did it for me. He was protecting me,” replies Yuuri, leaning forward. In his lap Conrad sighs, and he falls back apprehensively. Conrad’s eyelashes flicker for a moment but then still, his breathing smoothing. Yuuri trails his hand down, past the long fine line of his jaw, over the raised curve of his collarbone to lay his hand over Conrad’s heart. “He was protecting me,” he whispers, head bowed.

“He always will. With all his heart,” says Yozak, voice soft now.

“I know. I’ll never doubt him.” In his ears his recent declaration in Francshire ring, _I’ll never doubt anyone again_. For all that he’d meant the words, it had been Conrad they were addressed to.

“Do you think I’m a fool, Yozak?” He doesn’t raise his head, bangs shadowing his eyes from the fire’s flickering flame.

“I think you’re the most revolutionary king Shin-Makoku’s had in centuries; you may finally be the one to bring peace where few others have bothered to try. And I think that you’re the only one who could have brought Conrad home. You should be proud, Your Majesty.”

Under his fingers, Conrad’s heart is beating a slow, steady tattoo. Yuuri can feel the heat of his skin beneath his tunic, hear the gentle sigh of his breath. _Home_ , he thinks, heart suddenly aching. Home is where Conrad is – where they are together.

“Next time,” he promises, steel under the softness of his tone, “I’ll be the one to protect him.”

Yozak smiles, firelight dancing in his eyes as he watches the two of them. “You bring him back. Then you will have.”

END


End file.
